what if i told you?
by Miah-Chan
Summary: "What if...what if I told you I've been in love with you since we were kids?"


Ayyye, I'm back-with fluffy IwaOi this time! (To maybe off-set the angst from _Toska_ ^^;)

Darcy ( **l1nkp1t** on Tumblr) sent me a the perfect prompt for these two!  
Also, a huge thank you to Jazz ( **eccentrick-stardust** ) & Rikka ( **astersandstuffs** ) for their help with proofreading!  
(Psst-all three of these lovely people write fanfiction so you should totally check them out! ;D)

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _Haikyuu!_ or any affiliated characters.

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 _Iwa_ _-chan has been acting weird_ , Tooru thinks, nibbling the top of his pen as he not-so-discreetly stares at his best friend. Hajime sits above him on the bed, hunched over his notes with typical single-minded focus on the assignment before him. Tooru ought to be working on homework himself but the mystery of Hajime's sudden weirdness is much more important to him than some old dead guy's literature.

It's not like Hajime has really _changed_ or anything–he still chides Tooru when he's being insufferable, still saves the bugs that make their way into the house, still sneaks his tomatoes into Tooru's bento when he's not looking, still teases and huffs and hides grins with a roll of his eyes–but even so he's seemed more...distant, despite those things.

Maybe it's because they're graduating? Tooru taps his pen against his bottom lip, considering. It's possible; they've discussed their university options a few times but neither has admitted to deciding yet. Tooru knows what _his_ ideal situation would be–moving in with Iwa-chan, even if they're attending different universities–but Hajime has never–

"Oi, quit analyzing me or whatever you're doing and study." Hajime scolds, glancing up to briefly glare at him before returning to his notes. Tooru huffs, dropping his pen on his books and leaning back against the side of the bed so he can stare at Hajime some more.

"I'm not analyzing!" he protests. "I was just thinking."

"Well think about homework," Hajime says, writing something down. "We graduate in a month; how are you gonna get into university if you fail."

"My grades are impeccable," Tooru gloats. "Iwa-chan is the one–"

"One more word and I'll help you learn this shit by beating the book over your head."

Tooru snorts, thinking offhandedly, _Yeah right, you barely get near me these days unless it's_ –

His train of thought halts abruptly as a realization sweeps over him.

He knows it could be any number of viable reasons why Hajime stopped touching him too casually– _when did he stop? Why has it taken so long to notice?_ –but Tooru wonders…

( _No way_ , the logical voice in his head denies. _Don't even go there. Don't do this to yoursel_ f.

 _But what if…?_ he wonders and, really, that's all the reason he needs.)

Spontaneously deciding to test the theory–even at the potential expense of his well-being–Tooru reaches next to him for one of the pillows he uses for cushioning, grabbing the first one he feels.

He sing-songs, "Prove it, Iwa-cha~n"–right before throwing it at Hajime's face the moment he looks up.

There's complete silence for about fifteen seconds after the pillow drops, scattering some of Hajime's notes, before Tooru shrieks as Hajime leaps from the bed at him. He scrambles but Hajime's quicker–how is he so _fast_ , holy shit, maybe Tooru should have thought this over a little longer–and suddenly Hajime's on his lap, whacking the pillow against Tooru's face repeatedly.

"What"– _whack_ –"the fuck"– _whack_ –"Shittykawa?!"– _whack whack whack_.

Tooru's laughing though, fallen back against the floor, arms shielding his head as he tries to squirm away. Hajime abandons the pillow to grab him by the wrists, yanking his arms away from his face and pinning them on either side of Tooru's head.

His grin is terrifying in the familiar way that Tooru learned long ago meant _you're gonna regret doing tha_ t. Hajime licks his lips (Tooru honestly tries not to follow the movement but _he's literally straddling him_ and yeah, this was a terrible idea, what was his objective again?) before leaning down and blowing the wettest, most slobbery raspberry possible against Tooru's cheek.

The screech Tooru releases practically rattles the window–he bucks his hips desperately, variations of "oh my god, Iwa-chan, _disgusting!_ " and "release me you brute!" only serving to make Hajime laugh and assault Tooru's face with even more excessively spit-slickened raspberries. Tooru shakes his head vehemently, hoping if he does it fast enough Hajime won't be able to make contact.

He should know by now Hajime knows all of his tricks.

He drags Tooru's arms to his sides and pins them there with his knees–damn him for being so _muscular_ , he's too heavy to throw off–and crosses his arms over his chest, smirking down at Tooru.

"Now, where's your literature book…?" he asks, looking around. Tooru whines, wiggling beneath him as he complains, "Haven't you done enough, you big bully?"

"You started it Crappykawa."

"I was _just_ trying to get you to relax! You've been even more grumpy than usual." Well, it's partially true anyway. Hajime quirks a brow at him that clearly says _And you thought hitting me in the face with a pillow would help?_

Tooru huffs, his bangs fluttering over his forehead as he pouts, muttering, "You _could_ just tell me what's bothering you."

"Really?" Hajime asks, sounding exasperated. "You couldn't just _ask_ like a normal person?" They stare at one another defiantly for a moment before Hajime exhales, long and loud, running a hand through his hair.

"Doesn't matter, it's not a big deal." He makes to stand and Tooru knows if he lets the subject go now it may not come up again. Immediately he yanks his arms away from his sides while hooking his feet around Hajime's ankles and leans up to hug Hajime's waist, pulling him down. He twists, uses the momentum to flip their positions so that now _he's_ the one smirking over a shocked Hajime.

Well. Maybe Hajime doesn't know _all_ of his tricks.

"What the hell? Where'd you even learn to do that?" he demands. Tooru simply grins and plops himself onto Hajime's chest, knocking the wind out of him.

"That's not important right now. Tell me what the not-a-big-deal thing is." Tooru aims a sweet, expectant smile at his best friend who scowls in return.

"Pass. Get off me, you lanky octopus." He tries to sit up but Tooru presses flat against him, weighing him down.

"Iwa- _chan_. Tell me~!" he demands petulantly. "We're supposed to be able to tell each other everything!"

( _Hypocrite_ whispers the voice.)

There's silence between them and, for a while, Tooru thinks Hajime is just going to keep quiet until he's released or Tooru gets bored. Curious, he starts to lift his head from where he's lying on Hajime's chest but a hand in his hair stops him. Breath catching in his throat, Tooru stills as he feels Hajime's heart accelerate beneath his cheek; Hajime keeps him there with a gentle, though firm, hand at the base of his neck.

"Okay," he breathes, his voice rumbling in Tooru's ear. For some reason it makes Tooru flush; it just feels so _intimate_ all of a sudden. He holds his breath, waiting, somehow knowing Hajime's next words are going to alter something between them.

"What if...what if I told you I've been in love with you since we were kids?"

The words hang between them, exhaled in a rush with the tightening of Hajime's fingers in Tooru's hair, his heart hammering under Tooru's ear. _He means it_ , Tooru realizes with awe. Heat washes over his face, butterflies bursting to life in his stomach, and he feels the tell-tale sign of tears prickling behind his eyes. Unconsciously, he grips Hajime's shirt between his fingers, biting his lip as he tries to keep it together.

Hajime shifts uncomfortably–is Tooru imagining it or are his hands shaking?–and clears his throat, voice hoarse as he mutters, "Say _something_. You asked, you can't just–" He pauses, stiffening as Tooru whines low in his throat.

"Hey, what–?" Hajime brings his free hand up to Tooru's face, thumbing the curve of his jaw. "Are you crying?"

" _Stupid!_ " Tooru wails, turning his face into Hajime's chest as the tears fall faster. "You...You can't just _drop_ something like that on me!"

"Wha– _you asked!_ " Hajime takes a moment to choose between irritation and concern; apparently he chooses the latter because he cards his fingers through Tooru's hair, lowering his voice as he murmurs, "Look, this doesn't...nothing has to–"

"If you say 'nothing has to change' I swear I will smother you with that pillow." Tooru interrupts, glancing up from his hiding to glare at his obtuse best friend. Hajime's eyes are wide, searching, his hand tightening reflexively against Tooru's nape. The longer they stare, the redder their cheeks get until both have to look away.

"So," Hajime clears his throat, thumb moving comfortingly up and down Tooru's neck. "You, ah...you too?" The words are hesitant, soft, like he never considered it a possibility. Tooru feels his heart lurch because _how could he not?_

He's all Tooru has ever wanted.

"Idiot," Tooru huffs, sniffling. The damn tears won't stop. "Of course me too."

He gathers his courage so he can meet his gaze again and is surprised to be helped along when Hajime's hands move to cup his jaw, tilting his face up so he can see him. He's flushed all the way down his neck but there's the biggest, most open smile on his face and Tooru feels himself fall just a little deeper in love at the sight.

"Yeah?" he breathes, thumbing away the tears with a gentleness Tooru didn't know he possessed. He smirks then, drawing Tooru further up his chest so that they're nose-to-nose and Tooru can feel his next hushed words brush against his lips.

"Prove it."

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Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Lmk what you think? :3

As always, feel free to hmu on **Tumblr sawamura-daichis-thighs** :D


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